Quarter Quell and Castaways
by bluetoothpaste
Summary: LotF and HG crossover. Rated T for violence and because I'm paranoid. Occurs in Panem.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all you people. This is the author speaking. But you already knew that.**

**Anyway, this is a story just asking to be written: a LotF and Hunger Games crossover. And I mean a **_**real **_**Hunger Games crossover (just so you all know, a bunch of kids forced to kill each other is not an idea unique to the series). With all the people making connections between the two, it had to be done. It isn't supposed to be overly serious, because I rarely take anything I write seriously—especially fanfiction. **

**For LotF, it's alternate universe. For HG, it's sort of alternate universe (I have to rearrange some canon stuff to make this work...bear with me). **

**DISCLAIMER: Neither of these belong to me. HG © Suzanne Collins; LotF © William Golding**

**Without further ado, here is Chapter 1:**

It was Reaping Day in Panem. The 75th annual Hunger Games was just about to begin, and it was Ralph's first time in the Reaping. Just his luck. This year's Quarter Quell was going to be even scarier than a normal Hunger Games. Not too long ago, it had been announced that the Reaping age would be lowered from twelve years to nine. So, lucky him, his name would be in there three times instead of one. On top of that, because of the increased number of kids, they'd double the tributes. _A one in forty-eight chance to live, _thought Ralph. _Fantastic. _

Being from District 12, though, Ralph thought he might have a slightly better chance. All of the people applying for tesserae lowered his chances for being picked.

"Ralph, let's go, dear—we don't want to be late!" his mother called. She was trying too hard to sound cheerful. He knew it wouldn't be like all those other years, which mostly consisted of showing up and watching other people scream and cry. For the first time ever, it was his family at risk. As an only child, the chances of their family losing a member to the Reaping were lowered substantially...but it also meant that, should he be picked, their grief would be multiplied.

Ralph bit his lip as his mother straightened his outfit. "Why do we have to dress up, anyway?" he asked. "I mean, we're just going to come back home, right?"

"I hope so," his mother said. His father, standing in the doorway, held the door open for them. They headed to the town square to await their fate.

When he arrived, Ralph signed in with the rest of the children—seeing some of the now-eligible nine-year-olds made his skin crawl with disgust for the Capitol—and took his place in line. His stomach hurt and he was afraid he might throw up. He just wanted to get this over with and go home.

Before long, Effie Trinket walked onstage, smiling brightly in the faces of the somber District 12 residents. "Welcome to the 75th Annual Hunger Games!" she announced, grinning. "As you know, for this year's Quarter Quell, we are lowering the qualification age and doubling the tributes. Won't this be fun? And all because of a little uprising, not so long ago..." The video on the history of Panem played again, one that almost everyone had been seeing since their childhood. After what could have been a revolution, the Capitol had set up a new system to control the people. Part of it was the Hunger Games: sending one male and female tribute from each district to fight to the death. Except this year it would be two. Four tributes from each district...

When the video ended, Effie continued her speech. "And now, it is time to select the tributes for this year's Quarter Quell. As always, ladies first." She reached her hand into the girls' reaping ball and jumbled the tiny slips of paper; even at a great distance, Ralph could see her bright pink nail polish. Finally, she selected one.

"Primrose Everdeen." Heads turned in the direction of a small, pale girl with blond hair in braids. Just as she started forward, an older girl with dark hair rushed forward.

"I volunteer! I volunteer!" she cried desperately.

"No! Don't, Katniss!" Prim shouted. But it was too late. The deed was done, and Katniss headed to the stage, staring at her feet. Effie welcomed Katniss to the stage and reached into the reaping ball for a second time.

"Susanna Golding." The girl who came forward was about fourteen, with light brown hair tied into a messy bun. Shakily, she ascended the steps to join Katniss and Effie. There was a moment of silence to acknowledge any volunteers, but none came forward.

"All right, then," said Effie, "now for the boys." She pulled out a slip of paper from the second reaping ball. For Ralph, seconds turned into minutes. His heart thumped wildly and he stared at the small white strip in Effie's hand. And then, his name was called.

For a moment he wasn't sure it was him, but when everyone turned to look at him, there was no denying it. He was going to die in the Quarter Quell this year. He moved up to the stage robotically, trying to focus on keeping his balance—the shock had made him feel faint. There was that dreadful moment of silence for any volunteers, but Ralph knew there wouldn't be any. He had no siblings to take his place.

The second boy was called soon after, Peeta Mellark. He was in many ways an older version of Ralph: tall, strong, and handsome with messy blond hair. He and Katniss glanced at each other and shared a look of faint horror. There was something going on between them, and Ralph wasn't sure what. They didn't appear romantically involved.

He didn't have much time to think about the other tributes, though, because soon Effie was clapping loudly. "There you have it, folks: the tributes representing District 12! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

**Ha ha! Yep, there's Chapter 1. It's short, I know. Too bad. Will get other chapters out soon. When I have time, that is. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, tributes, and Happy Hunger Games! I know the odds haven't been in your favor so far, because I've been working on my other story. But time sponsored me today, because I'm going to get this chapter done. **

The rest of the day (mostly spent traveling to the Capitol, stopping for reapings along the way) went by slowly for Ralph. He wasn't sure if being a District 12 tribute was good or bad, in the sense that you were reaped first. If you were reaped first, you could size up your opponents, but you'd also know who else you had to kill. A lot of them were...heartbreaking, for lack of a better word.

From District 11, there was a girl about Ralph's age: twelve. Her name was Rue. Then there was a big, beefy kid named Thresh, some girl whose name Ralph wasn't quite sure he could pronounce, and a very small boy named Simon. He'd fainted dead away when his name was called, and Thresh had to drag him onstage. When he recovered, he said in a quiet voice that he was nine years old and he definitely hadn't planned on being part of the Quarter Quell this year. He reminded Ralph of the little brother he never had. Rue reminded him of the sister he never had. It was going to be hard, really hard.

Another standout had been from District 8: a short, chubby boy of eleven years who vaguely resembled a pig. Ralph decided to call him Piggy. He had a very pink face and wore glasses. Even the effort of walking up to Effie had winded him. He wouldn't be a difficult to handle.

But there were others, people who stood out because of their threat level. There was a sneaky, fox-faced girl from District 5. From District 3, a dark and foreboding eleven-year-old boy named Roger. From Districts 1, 2, and 4—the Careers. Double in number and double in threat. There were Marvel and Glimmer from District 1, along with a hotheaded red-haired boy about Ralph's age. His name was Jack Merridew. The other girl was named Luster. From District 2, Cato and Clove. The other two...who were they? He couldn't quite recall. His mind was tired from all this new information.

Just as he lay down on the sofa to rest his head, Peeta sat beside him and tapped him on the shoulder. "We'll be at the Capitol soon," he said. "Might as well enjoy being yourself while you can."

Ralph turned. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice thick with fatigue.

"You know what they'll do to us—same thing they do to the tributes every year. They'll dress us up until we're hidden under a ton of glamorous clothing, and make us smile and wave to the people who'll be cheering on our deaths in a few days." He grinned.

"But...that only happens to other people, not us."

"Yeah, but it's going to."

Just then, Katniss walked in the door, threw down her bag, and sat, covering her face.

"Come on, lighten up," said Peeta.

"Lighten up?" Katniss demanded. "Lighten up? What is this, a game to you?"

"Actually..." Peeta began, but wisely decided to shut his mouth.

"We're going to be dead in a couple of days," Katniss said. "Dead."

"What if we won?" Ralph asked.

"We can't win," said Katniss. "I mean, maybe we could, but what are the odds? _Not_ in our favor!" She sat, looking defeated. Ralph found it odd that she was the only volunteer of the group, yet she was also the most upset about being a tribute.

"Well, to be honest, if any of us has a shot at winning, it's you," said Peeta. Katniss gave no reply.

The rest of the trip was mostly silent. The four tributes hadn't been gathered together since they met their mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. Haymitch smelled strongly of liquor and hadn't given them much good advice. The best they got was, "Stay alive." Still, he seemed pretty concerned about survival skills—he said that most of them would die from natural causes, and not other tributes. Despite watching the Hunger Games for twelve years, Ralph was surprised by this. Maybe it was because the killings had been highlighted more than the other deaths.

Susanna didn't say much, not even when Haymitch asked her questions. But she always carried around a notebook and a pencil, either taking notes or recording everything that happened. She seemed very intelligent. It was a stretch, but maybe she'd do well in the Games.

The thought was scary. Ralph would be fending for himself out there, trying not to be killed by forty-eight other kids—the older ones much stronger than him, the younger ones too helpless to kill mercilessly. And of course, he didn't know _how _to kill. How to wield a weapon. To strike. To maim. All these things he'd have to learn in a few measly days. He didn't stand a chance.

"Hey—did you hear?" Peeta asked suddenly.

"What?" said Katniss.

"The Gamemakers are going to do a little experiment," he said. "I think Haymitch said they weren't going to intervene this year."

"What do you mean?" asked Ralph.

Haymitch suddenly burst in the door, holding a bottle of liquor and drinking from it every few seconds.

"Are you talking about the plan?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Ralph.

"They're not going to intervene, at least in the beginning," said Haymitch. "They want to see how many people you kill on your own first." He laughed.

"They can't make us kill anyone." Ralph eyed him carefully.

"They may not have to." Haymitch took another drink just as Effie walked in.

"Say hello to the Capitol!" She smiled brightly. "You've arrived!"

**There's Chapter 2. Now, I'm gonna work on my homework...**


End file.
